


Three Times Yen + Geralt Failed to Seduce Jaskier, and One Time They Succeeded

by always_a_slut_for_hc



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_a_slut_for_hc/pseuds/always_a_slut_for_hc
Summary: a Witcher kinkmeme fill (I know it's supposed to be 5+1 but I'm busy, ok??)featuring: domme Yen! Geralt saying 'Hm'! Jaskier being a precious idiot!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 62
Kudos: 953





	Three Times Yen + Geralt Failed to Seduce Jaskier, and One Time They Succeeded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TerraOfTheTeenTitans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraOfTheTeenTitans/gifts).



1.

The first time it happens, it’s so brief, so thoughtless, that everyone involved forgets about it almost immediately. In the wake of the djinn’s departure, when he and Yennefer are so caught up in their fury and relief and lust, Geralt forgot about Jaskier.

“They’re REALLY alive! Unf!” 

Geralt heard Jaskier’s voice and turned towards the window to see the bard, naked hunger on his face. His thrusts into Yennefer still as his mind worked out how to express his relief at both Yennefer and Jaskier’s survival, the bind he feels the now all three share, the urge to invite Jaskier in…

Yennefer, quicker on the uptake, also looked over and gave a sharp-edged smile.

“You’re welcome to join, little bard, but I do also love an audience.” She called. Jaskier’s cheeks colored and he opened his mouth, but before he can say anything, he’s tackled to the ground by the elf healer. Apparently the man had more concern for Yen’s modesty than Yen herself.

Yennefer laughed, making her body move in such an interesting way that Geralt’s attention snapped back to his bodily need, and Jaskier was quickly forgotten in the soft heat of Yennefer’s kisses.

2.

It’s on the dragon’s mountain when they first try to seriously raise the subject. Geralt had asked Yennefer, after they’d met at the start of the trek, why she held so very much vitriol for Jaskier. She’d sighed and avoided his gaze, but finally answered, “He’s clever, your bard. Lovely voice. There’s power in his talent, not to mention he’s fairly easy on the eyes…but he wants you. And he definitely doesn’t want me.”

Shocked at the thought of Jaskier wanting him, Geralt managed a “Hn,” before Yen’s violet eyes met his, sparkling with excitement. “Although…,” she murmured, her fingers absently toying with a strand of Geralt’s white hair, “Maybe he could want us both, hmm?”

A ribbon of lust curled though Geralt’s body at the thought of the three of them, a tangle of limbs on some imaginary palatial bed, he and Yen teasing Jaskier until the bard finally went speechless, reduced to only pathetic whimpers.

“I’m in,” Geralt growled, and felt Yen smile against his neck.

That night around the fire, Geralt and Yen had both tried, in their own ways. Yen was soft towards the bard, softer than Geralt had ever seen her, and Geralt had made the effort to respond to Jaskier’s chattering with actual words. They’d sat close, one on either side of Jaskier, moving closer and touching his arm, his thigh, as the twilight dimmed into night.

And Jaskier had noticed, but instead of warming to them, he’d gone rather quiet, his cornflower blue eyes flicking back and forth between them. As the embers of the fire died down, Jaskier stood up with a start. 

“Well!” he announced, hands on his hips. “I’m so glad the tender afterglow of your nightly adventures has extended to the rest of us, but I’m off to bed. You two have fun, now, so the rest of the journey can be this pleasant.” He winked, and then strode off into the night, idly humming.

Geralt met Yen’s stare across the fire, the same disappointment he felt mirrored in her face. “We’ll just have to try again, more plainly next time.” she said. “Hn,” Geralt agreed, and leaned forward to kiss her. But he couldn’t help but notice the empty space between them, where Jaskier had fit so nicely.

3\. 

Months later, they had another opportunity. Jaskier had been traveling with Geralt, after a few weeks ago when Geralt had saved Jaskier from some unsavory bandits and then gritted out a sincere yet stilted apology for what he’d said on the dragon’s mountain. Ciri’s off with Triss Merigold learning about some sorcery or another, so it’s just Geralt, Jaskier, and Roach. Just like old times. 

Only not like old times, because now whenever Geralt looked at Jaskier, there’s a longing that he’d only felt once before, with Yen. A longing that he’s sure Witchers aren’t supposed to feel, much less towards silly, talented bards with a knack for trouble. So the days trudge on, and Geralt felt himself showing more and more of his affection towards Jaskier – letting him ride on Roach, actually listening (more or less) to the bard’s wildly exaggerated tales, putting his bedroll ever closer to the bard’s when they make camp at night.

Then Yen showed up through a portal, and it seemed like the stage was set for another attempt. Yen and Jaskier traded barbs more fond than stinging, and Jaskier’s whole face lit up when Yennefer casually asked him to play his newest song. Geralt felt that longing twofold, now, when he looked at them together.

That night, they stopped at one of the many ramshackle towns along the road and entered the solitary inn. The innkeeper served them food and provided board for Roach, but there was only one room to be had. Geralt and Yen exchanged a look of glee, and assured the innkeeper it won’t be a problem. 

“Oi!” Jaskier said crossly from behind them. “Where am I supposed to sleep, then?”

“With us, of course,” Yennefer said with a seductive smile.

“Oh sure, sure,” Jaskier said, and picked up his lute, eyeing the crowd. “I’ll just play a bit, yeah?” And then he’s off, putting on a charming performance that had every eye in the inn on him, including Yennefer and Geralt. Several patrons looked more than interested in the bard, making Geralt grimace. 

They’d expected Jaskier to come to the room with them as they retired, but Jas waved them off. “I’ll just play one last song,” he said, still strumming his lute. But they waited, and waited, and Jaskier never darkened the doorway. 

“I’ll go see what’s keeping him,” Geralt said, striding to the door. He stepped one foot into the hallway, stopped, tilted his head, and then turned and re-entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Let me guess,” Yennefer drawled from the bed. “He’s found other company?”

Geralt nodded, noticing vaguely that he was clenching his fists. “His voice is… unique.” He finally rasped, and collapsed on the bed face first in the direction of Yennefer’s lap. He could still hear, very faintly, Jaskier’s moans of pleasure from elsewhere in the inn. It made the longing feeling in his chest twist unpleasantly into a feeling much closer to rage.

Yennefer’s delicate fingers traced his hairline. “Well,” she stated. “There are two options. One, he’s not interested in us that way, which is almost impossible, I’ve seen the way he looks at you and me. And two, we just haven’t been clear enough.”

“How was ‘You’re to sleep with us’ not clear enough?” Geralt growled in frustration.

“Hmm.” Was Yennefer’s noncommittal response, but her violet eyes were thoughtful. “It may be more to do with his feelings about himself than with his feelings for us. The trouble might be he thinks we couldn’t possibly mean it, not about him.”

Geralt considered this. While Jaskier was clever, a genius maybe, he was also a colossal idiot.

“I think,” he said, “we’re just going to have to force him to listen,” and Yennefer’s eyes gleamed.

+1.

At breakfast the next day, Jaskier was chipper and merry in a way Geralt knew from long experience was false. They didn’t speak of last night, and as the day wore on, Jaskier’s mask began to slip. His face pinched, he followed behind Roach glumly, not even strumming a tune. And so it went, silent and tense, until finally the next town came into view.

It was, comically, almost an exact replica of the night before – a surly innkeeper, a shortage of rooms. This time, when Jaskier turned away from them to take out his lute, Geralt was ready. He grasped the bard’s arm and started to march him up the stairs to the room, ignoring his indignant pleading.

Finally, they were all three in the room. Yennefer locked the door as Geralt pushed Jaskier onto the bed with a squawk. He floundered as he rolled over, then looked at them both as they stood over him, blue eyes wide.

“Uh…Geralt? Yen? Is there someone following us, is there something wrong?”

“No,” Geralt grunted, then allowed, “Well. Kind of.”

“Well what is it?” Jaskier demanded. “I was planning on putting on a bit of a performance for the tavern before I leave tomorrow, so if that’s not a problem –“

He made to get off the bed, but was stopped by Yennefer’s hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. 

“Jaskier, I’m afraid we haven’t been quite clear enough to get through that thick skull of yours.” she said sweetly. Her hand was still on Jaskier’s shoulder, and he glanced at it disbelievingly.

“When we said last night that we wanted you to sleep with us, we meant it.” Geralt said plainly, and watched Jaskier’s mouth drop open and a red flush steal over his cheeks.

“I-uh, pardon?” Jaskier said, glancing between the two of them.

“Sleep with us,” Yennefer said, trailing her hand down Jaskier’s shoulder to his chest. “That is, if you are amenable?”

“I-uh-yes? Yes.” Jaskier stuttered. “Really? You want me? Both of you?” His gaze flitted between them, hopeful and wary all at once.

“Yes,” said Geralt huskily. “We thought we’d made it clear last night, but then you went off with - someone else.” He bared his teeth at the last bit, and Jaskier’s gaze shot straight to his mouth.

“I didn’t – I didn’t think you were serious! I mean, you’ve got each other, look at you two, I didn’t think you’d want me-”

“No, you didn’t think,” Yen interrupted, her hand now in Jaskier’s hair. She gave an experimental tug, forcing a quick gasp out of the bard. The sound went straight to Geralt’s cock, and he shared a heavy, hot gaze with Yennefer. They were both very attracted to one another, it was true, and the sex they had was incredible, but both Yen and Geralt were a shade dominant. Jaskier, it was clear, was not.

“Thinking’s overrated,” Geralt rasped, blocking Jaskier in on his other side. Jaskier’s eyes followed him, dark with desire but still wide with a touch of apprehension. Those eyes widened as Geralt leaned forward slowly, tracing a rough hand along Jaskier’s jawline. Their lips met, softly at first, then Geralt was pushing into Jaskier’s mouth and nipping at his plush lips. 

Jaskier suddenly moaned, right into Geralt’s mouth, as Yen’s grip on his hair grew tighter. She pulled his head backwards, exposing the white column of Jaskier’s throat to Geralt. The witcher seized the opportunity, mouthed kisses down Jaskier’s throat, his hand cupping the back of the bard’s neck and his thumb pressing, pressing on the place where Jaskier’s pulse was thumping wildly. 

“Gods,” Jaskier managed, his throat moving under Geralt’s hand, and Geralt felt long-fingered hands come up and rest against his chest. Yen bent down now to ravage the bard’s mouth, her hand in his hair still pulling him back. She lifted from him and licked her lips, pleased.

“Your bard’s a fine kisser,” she murmured.

“Well, I thank you for the compliment - ah!” His voice broke off into a high needy gasp as Yen yanked his hair harder, then released.

“Let’s see how talented that tongue is for other applications, shall we?” she said, climbing up and then settling down at the head of the bed. A snap of her fingers, and she was only clothed in the sheer robe she’d worn the first time they’d all met, with the djinn. Yen’s dusky legs fell open as she smiled down to where Geralt and Jaskier were staring, a clear invitation.

“Right,” muttered Jaskier shakily. He turned back to Geralt, a question in his eyes, lips outrageously pink and kiss-swollen. Geralt tilted his head towards Yen in answer, and Jaskier crawled up the bed to rest between her splayed legs, his face upturned towards her in supplication. 

“Let’s get rid of those clothes first. You two are so rudely overdressed,” she teased. Jaskier and Geralt both started shedding jerkins and doublets. Eyes rake over each other’s bodies with hunger - Yennefer, perfectly smooth and glowing, her breasts supple mounds on her chest as she lay waiting on the bed. Jaskier, shirt off but pants still on, slim with a thick mat of hair running down his chest and disappearing into his trousers. Geralt, coming to sit on the bed behind Jaskier, all burnished muscle and ropy scars.

Jaskier, on his knees, bent down to nuzzle at Yennefer’s thigh. Her slim fingers grasped his chin, turn his face towards hers, blue eyes meeting purple. 

“What do you want, Jaskier?” she whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed as he pants sharply with desire.

“I want, I want you two,” he gritted out. “I want you to take me, Geralt, I want to be - be -“

“Used?” Geralt guessed, and he must have guessed right, because Jaskier’s whole body shivered with need. 

“Yes,” he hissed, and that’s all Yennefer and Geralt needed to hear.

Somehow, Geralt got Jaskier’s trousers off, and there was a bottle of oil in his hand. He began to prep the bard, gently, one finger at a time. The noises coming from Jaskier were just as delicious as Geralt had imagined; muffled against Yennefer’s pussy, moaning and licking and slurping like a proper whore. Yennefer’s fingers tangle in his hair as she watched Geralt’s finger pump into Jaskier’s upturned ass.

He added another, and another, and he was so painfully hard and so was Jaskier, the bard’s cock hanging untouched between his legs as he kneeled to Yen. Her fingers were white-knucked in Jaskier’s brown curls, and she breathed shallow, quick. Jaskier’s hand reached up then, to curl and hook inside her, and she suddenly seized, her hands clenching and voice breaking as her orgasm tore through her.

Shivering aftershocks wracked her body, until slowly she released her grip on Jaskier. He raised his head to stare at her, then licked those sinfully wet lips and smiled. 

“More,” she demanded, and rose up. Geralt caught onto her strategy, hooked an arm across the bard’s chest and pulled him back against Geralt’s strong chest, his oiled cock just teasing at Jaskier’s entrance.

“Ok?” Geralt asked, laving his tongue across Jaskier’s shoulder blade, tasting the sweat on his bard’s skin.

“Yes, yes, please,” Jaskier babbled, long hands coming up to grasp at Geralt’s forearm. Geralt fit his mouth against Jaskier’s neck as he entered the bard, slowly, slowly, until he bottomed out against his ass. He took a moment, there, to feel Jaskier tight around him, finally, finally.

Jaskier whimpered, his eyes clouded and unfocused as Geralt started to move, slowly rutting against the other man. Yennefer, now recovered, crawled up and took Jaskier’s weeping, untouched cock in one hand. Jaskier moaned and begged incoherently, just the word “please” over and over again.

“Oh, I think we’ll keep you waiting just a bit longer,” Yennefer smirked, her hand squeezing the base. “After all, you kept us waiting, hmm, little bard?”

Jaskier was beyond words it seemed, whimpering and moaning, his head lolling back against Geralt’s shoulder. Yennefer leaned forward and kissed him, gentle, so gentle, and Geralt’s breath caught at the sight. She kissed Geralt too, long and deep, and Jaskier was there between them. 

It was so perfect, everything Geralt had wanted. His stamina was usually formidable, but today, with Jaskier writhing between he and Yen, Geralt’s cock sunk deep into the bard, Yen’s heavy gaze…it was too much. He came with a growl, his teeth sinking into Jaskier’s shoulder, his hips stuttering up. Jaskier moaned wantonly, an edge of desperation in his voice.

“Please, Yennefer.”

Her eyes darkened - Yennefer loved to be begged.

Geralt and Yen’s eyes met, and Geralt nodded. Pulling Jaskier’s head back, Geralt kissed him deeply, still sheathed inside as Yen’s clever hands pulled and twisted Jaskier’s orgasm out of him. Geralt swallowed the noises Jaskier made, mouth hard and possessive on the bard’s soft lips. 

He held the bard until he stopped shaking, and the three collapsed to the bed in a pile of sweaty limbs. 

“Well,” Jaskier gasped, out of breath still, sandwiched between them. “I guess we won’t need to worry about getting two rooms anymore.”

“And you won’t be leaving tomorrow.” Geralt growled, and settled when Jaskier shook his head. 

“You may not even get out of bed tomorrow,” Yennefer threatened, and laughed at Geralt and Jaskier’s twin expressions of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment and it shall find me on the evening breeze, soft as a dandelion tuft, and I shall be sustained for another day (I need them to live)


End file.
